


Déjà Vu

by fauxpromises



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Angst, Childhood Memories, F/M, Gen, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2014-07-18
Packaged: 2018-02-09 09:26:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1977669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fauxpromises/pseuds/fauxpromises
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things, he thought, were best left forgotten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Déjà Vu

**Author's Note:**

> I think this was the first piece I ever wrote for this pairing and set of relationships. Kind of one of those moments when a certain someone regrets his choice of lifestyle/career and a certain mother wants to protect her children from instability.

His fingers pulled at a loose thread on his blanket as he stared sleepily toward the bedroom wall, a barely-visible mass in front of him in the darkness. The familiar sound of his brothers' soft snoring filled the room that the three youngest of the litter shared. A few feet away, the door was cracked open a tiny sliver, and the hushed sound of voices traveled in from the adjacent living room. Such a small home couldn't keep secrets, as all of its inhabitants had found out over time.

The boy wasn't sure if a sound had woke him up, or if it was the scratching in his throat that urged him to get a glass of water from the kitchen. He had always been a sound sleeper, after all, but the sound of the front door closing shook the tired old house when closed with any degree of force.

As a sort of afterthought, he knew he didn't want to interrupt his mother if she had a visitor. But he was thirsty and his mind was addled from sleep, so before much more consideration the seven-year-old crept over to the door and stepped into the short hallway that led to the dining room. He paused for a moment to listen to what was going on.

Yes, that was his mother's voice…and yet, it didn't really _sound_ like his ma. Her voice was usually abrasive and outgoing, not the calm and almost _sad_ tone he heard coming from the other room. And the other voice—he frowned. A man, but one he certainly had never been introduced to.

"I get it—it's just. Short notice, you know? The boys don't need—"

The dark-haired woman paused when she saw her youngest standing in hallway. For a moment her face paled just the slightest, her gaze darting over to the man seated across from her at the table.

But her son merely stared at the couple, blue eyes tired and almost uninterested in the affairs of the adults. "Hey ma," he smiled sheepishly.

She had already reassembled the composure that her surprise had caused to slip. "Honey," she answered in the firm yet loving tone only a mother seemed capable of. "You oughta be in bed. It's very late and you got school tomorrow, remember? And baseball practice after that?"

Her concerned expression as she glanced over at her companion spoke in a language only the two of them comprehended. The man, on the other hand, seemed intrigued by the boy's presence. He wore a deep brown fedora hat that mostly obscured his features, but blue eyes stood out sharply from the shadows.

"Jus' wanted some water," he explained quietly to his mother, stepping forward into the light of the dining room. The stranger made him uneasy, even despite his mother's obviously comfortable attitude. "Sorry."

The woman sighed as she began to get to her feet. "All right sweetie, I'll getcha—"

She was cut off by her visitor, who had reached out to place his hand over hers where it rested on the table. "Allow me, Kathryn. It is no trouble."

If he hadn't appeared unusual enough to begin with, his strange accent certainly increased that quite a bit. The boy had never heard someone speak like this, and it made him that much more wary. He glanced imploringly at his mother for an explanation, but her eyes were conveniently directed down at the table.

The stranger reappeared with a glass of water in hand, and the boy shied away as leaned down to offer it to. A small smirk played across the man's face as he noted the child's reluctance. In an oddly familiar gesture, he ruffled his fingers through the boy's hair, causing their gazes to meet for a brief moment. He began to murmur something to himself in a foreign tongue, but seemed to quickly catch himself.

"Your mother is right. Back to bed with you, hm?" A bit of dark humor flickered through his eyes, but the boy was too young to fully appreciate the subtlety of it. He accepted the glass with a tentative look about him before turning to do as he was told.

When she heard the sound of the bedroom door close with a click, his mother finally spoke again. Her voice was the strangest mixture of joy and sorrow.

"Didn't I tell ya he looks just like you?"

* * *

That late-night incident flashed briefly through the Scout's mind as he stood looking down the tunnel, his RED opponent at the opposite end holding his fire for a reason he couldn't entirely understand. An electricity seemed to resonate through the air, his mind straining to dig up the place that he remembered his enemy's eyes from. It lingered just beyond his grasp, somewhere in his brain, but too distant to be a lucid memory.

As it were, the other man had seen far more battles than his newly-hired BLU enemy. His surprise came to an end first, and a loud shot rang out in the mining tunnel. The bullet penetrated the younger man's brain and brought his contemplation to an abrupt end.

Some things, he thought, were best left forgotten.


End file.
